A/N: Thank you so much for reading the latest chapter. If you enjoyed please dont forget to leave a comment, powerstones and review the book. It really helps boost its visibility.
ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU AND ENJOY THE CHAPTER 😁
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Steel clashes against steel beneath the moonlight. Sparks bloom with every meeting of their blades, painting the narrow street in brief flashes of gold.
Yamato and Sano move like mirror images, measured, composed, yet fierce. Their swords sing with precision, each swing carrying the weight of experience.
Yamato's breathing is slow, controlled. His stance low, the point of his blade tracking Sano's every motion.
Sano, broader in the shoulders, fights with rhythm, calm but unpredictable. His style lacks the polished elegance of Yamato's Itto-ryū, but every strike carries conviction.
Their swords clash again, ringing sharply through the night.
Yamato slides to the side, twisting his blade to deflect a downward slash. He steps in close, aiming for Sano's ribs, but Sano pivots, catching Yamato's strike with the flat of his sword.
The sound of their boots grinding against the stone fills the air.
"Your swordsmanship is really good Yamato," Sano says, smiling faintly. "Where did you get that kind of disciple, did you have a teacher."
Yamato's gaze doesn't waver. "I'm self-taught, I, learnt from some notes left by my old man. Besides, you are not half bad yourself."
They circle each other in silence for a moment, blades angled, shoulders tense.
Then, they move again.
The street erupts in motion. Yamato darts forward with frightening precision, his blade slicing in short, direct arcs, each one aimed for a vital point. Sano meets him strike for strike, his own swordwork heavier, relying on strong deflections and counterthrusts.
Every impact rings through the air like a drumbeat.
A shallow cut opens on Sano's shoulder. Yamato receives one across his cheek in return. Neither flinches.
Their blades lock. Both push forward, eyes locked, strength meeting strength.
Sano grins through his breath. "I've never been so excited to fight someone before. You are like really fast."
Yamato answers with calm focus. "Your reaction speed is faster. Movement is useless is front of faster reactions."
They push off, breaking apart.
Both pant lightly, sweat tracing down their temples.
Then, they charge again.
Sano swings wide, his blade tracing a horizontal arc. Yamato ducks beneath it, his sword cutting upward in response. Sano twists his wrist and meets the blade mid-air. Sparks rain between them.
Their feet skid against the stone as both men hold their ground, strength matching strength.
"Do you ever wonder," Sano says mid-lock, his voice steady despite the tension, "why swordsmen like us still fight, when others throw Techniques around like it's nothing?"
Yamato smirks faintly. "I wouldn't know. I'm not like you, I have a ton of mana. Who's to say I won't use Techniques in the future."
Sano chuckles. "Wow, I feel so betrayed Yamato. I thought me and you were kindred spirits."
He shoves Yamato back and immediately follows with a thrust. Yamato parries, turning the blade aside with one smooth motion and countering with a downward slash. Sano barely avoids it, the edge slicing a few strands of hair as he rolls to the side.
Both rise at once, blades up again.
Sano exhales slowly, blood trailing from the cut on his shoulder. "You know," he says, "I'm not an expert swordsman or something and I'd never claim such. But I see potential in you. You might become a monster of a swordsman in the future."
"That's the goal," Yamato replies, eyes calm. "When you've lost people you care about, wanting to grow stronger become instinctual. I'll become a master swordsman and protect those close to me."
Sano smiles faintly. "Mhh, maybe I didn't become a master swordsman because my goals were to self centered." he says.
Yamato smiles and says "No, it's because you have a laughable mana pool."
Sano smiles and charges again. They meet in a storm of motion, precise, fast, unrelenting. The sound of clashing steel fills the air, echoing down the empty street.
Yamato steps forward, cuts diagonally. Sano deflects and retaliates, aiming for Yamato's side. The swordsman twists away, his blade grazing Sano's thigh.
Blood splashes against the stone.
Sano grits his teeth but doesn't slow. He presses forward, swinging with renewed vigor, forcing Yamato on the defensive.
The tempo rises, strikes, parries, steps, rotations. A dance of blades.
Finally, both men break apart again, gasping for air. Their clothes torn, blades smeared with crimson.
Sano laughs lightly. "I can't remember the last time someone pushed me this far."
Yamato wipes blood from his lip with his thumb. "Same here, I was way too comfortable in Yoima."
For a brief moment, they just stare at each other, two swordsmen bound by the same instinct.
Sano raises his sword, nodding slightly. "Then now should be about time we end this don't you think."
Yamato's eyes sharpen. "Agreed."
They move simultaneously.
For a split second, the world seems to hold its breath.
Sano lunges with a straight thrust aimed for Yamato's chest. Yamato steps in, sliding past the blade, his katana flashing upward in a perfect, singular motion.
The technique, clean, absolute, slices through the night.
Both land behind each other.
Yamato's stance remains steady, blade pointed downward. His voice is calm, almost reverent.
"Itto-ryū, Issen."
A single line of blood falls from Sano's chest. He exhales softly, eyes wide with realization.
Then, they close. His sword slips from his hand, clattering against the stone.
Yamato turns slowly, watching him fall.
Sano collapses to his knees, still smiling faintly even as his strength fades. "Heh… One strike, huh…"
Yamato gives a quiet nod. "One strike."
Sano's eyes roll back as he tips forward, hitting the ground with a soft thud.
The street falls silent again.
Yamato stands over him, sheathing his sword with a single, fluid motion. The wind picks up, brushing past his hair, carrying away the last trace of battle.
He looks down at Sano with respect.
"In my eyes you'll forever be a master swordsman. Two swords style huh," he says quietly.
Then, he turns away and walks toward the fading wall, and jumps over itblade resting at his side. He sees Fenn out cold with a smile on his face, and the messed up Joone and smiles.
He jumps down from the wall and walks over to Fenn, picks him up and flings him over his shoulder and says "You done well Fenn, what a satisfied smile that is. Indeed revenge is a good thing, those who say it's not are crazy"
"Dante is not done yet, that idiot. How long could it take to beat one old man" he says after still hearing battle noises in the mansion. "I better hurry up and look for Anitta"